If Not Me Than Who?
by mallorythewriter
Summary: Damon and Elena are dealing with the aftermath of Stefan's death. But Elena isn't sure how much longer she can put up with it. Will she leave Damon? Sorry, I'm horrible at writing summaries. Please read, it's a lot better than it sounds.


**A/N Just an angsty one shot. I wanted to explore how Damon and Elena and their relationship would be affected if Stefan died. Pretty short. Please R&R!**

His eyes were locked on the fire. "Damon?" I tried. He didn't remove his gaze from the flames. He was too stubborn for his own good. Something I saw in myself as well. But not like that. If I was falling apart inside I'd let him help me. You know why? Because I loved him. And I didn't want to lose him. Ever. "Damon." I insisted, my voice harsher. "Will you just look at me?" I pressed. He didn't blink. "Damn it, Damon. Talk to me. No, I'm not even asking that. Just _look _at me." "I'm sorry if I'm not in the mood to listen to your wining, Elena." He shot back. The remark stung. "I'm trying to help you." I stated calmly."I don't want your help." "Fine." I said decisively, leaving the room.

I was beyond fed up. All I wanted, correction, needed was a minute. One freaking minute he wasn't shutting me out. I wanted to help him get through Stefan's death. I really did. More than anything. But it was getting impossible. A person can only take so much. I'd been called selfish, a bitch, heartless even. When he wasn't picking fights with me, he was just sitting there, staring at the fire. I knew it wasn't going to be easy. The moment I saw Stefan's grey, motionless body, I knew it was going to be hell. But I didn't know I was signing up to be Damon's punching bag. Have you ever been called a selfish, heartless bitch by the love of your life? It's like getting your heart ripped out and stomped on.

Did he even love me anymore? Forget not loving, did he hate me? Did he blame me? Did he wish it was me, instead of his brother? I stepped into our room, closing the door behind me. I leaned against the door, holding my head in my hands. Damon was too far gone. So was our relationship. It died that night; the moment that stake hit Stefan's heart. I slid down against the door and wrapped my arms around my knees. Tears began trickling from my eyes. I was done. I was giving up. The life I was living, it was hell. I knew he was broken, but so was I. I needed him too. But he wasn't there. My Damon. My beloved Damon. He was gone. I guessed he'd died too; along with Stefan and our relationship. Stefan's death killed Damon.

And that was killing me. I needed Damon. I needed my Damon, not the shell he'd become. I stood and grabbed a bag out of the closet. Choking back sobs, I grabbed as much of my things as I could. There was nothing left for me there. With that empty shell I called my boyfriend. Could I even call him that anymore? We didn't go out, we didn't have sex, we didn't even kiss. We barely even spoke. And I was supposed to spend an eternity like that? No. I wouldn't. I _couldn't. _

I threw the bag over my shoulder and carefully slipped past the den. Of course he heard me. But, obviously, he didn't care. I had my hand on the door handle, ready to leave, but I stopped. _I should leave a note. _I decided, heading for the kitchen. He deserved that. An explanation, I mean.

_Dearest Damon, _  
_I love you. I always will. But this, us, I just can't do it anymore. I'm so sorry. I hope you can get past this. Maybe one day, after you do, we'll see each other again. But until then, I love you. I want nothing more than for you to be ok. Hold on to that. Be strong. _

_With all my love,_

_Elena._

I prepared to set the note on the table. I turned and saw Damon through the hall. As usual, he sat alone, his eyes fixated on the flickering fire. But I looked more carefully this time, considering it was probably the last. Pain. Pure pain. It was all I saw, all over his face. Guilt, fear, loneliness. Silent tears sliding down his cheeks. I looked down at the note in my hand. Who was this girl? Leaving the man who needed her most. Leaving him _alone_. Who would make sure he didn't rip his ring off in the sunlight? Who would take care of him? Who would love him? No one. No one cared. Stefan was dead, Alaric was dead. He had no one left. Only me. And I was going to leave him? No.

I stepped into the den. "I'm sorry." He grumbled. _At least that's something._ I thought to myself."It's ok." I muttered, sitting beside him. "Going somewhere?" He asked, looking at my bag. "No." I replied, tossing it to the floor. "Good." He said his voice broken and helpless. God, I loved him so much. And he knew that. He had to. He wrapped his hands around mine, finally looking away from the fire and into my eyes. "I don't want to lose you too." I snuggled against him, a tear escaping my eyes. He still loved me. Of course he did. He was giving me my minute. My one minute. My hope. My light. My reason to keep going. I crumpled the note in my hand and tossed it in the fire. "Don't worry." I whispered, watching the paper burn. "I'm not going anywhere."


End file.
